


Tread carefully

by DracoIgnis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M, Jonerys, London Underground, Pregnancy, The Blitz, married, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 07:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: During the Blitz, Jon and Daenerys hide in the London Underground. Fearing for their lives, they come to realise what really matters. A Jonerys AU short story with original artwork.





	Tread carefully

..

As Jon settled next to Daenerys, his back pressed against the cold tiled wall, he lit a smoke, slipped his arm around her shoulders, and said: “So, what’s for dinner?”

The absurdity of the question made her laugh out loud. “What’s for dinner?” she repeated and glanced around them, “Well, whatever you can scavenge I suppose!”

“I did see a lady serving tea earlier,” Jon said, ashes drizzling off his cigarette, “guess I’ll try to track her down.” It would not be easy, he knew, as he glanced around them. To find anyone between the hundreds of sleeping bodies would be a feat in itself.

London Underground was packed. Men and women like themselves were seated close against the wall, whilst others had dropped jackets onto the rails in an attempt to make a bed for the night. Outside, somewhere in the city, bombs were sure to be dropped. He could feel it in his bones; before he left the pub that evening, he’d heard the first Jerry of the night choking its way across the sky. Still, he had finished his pint before heading to meet Daenerys by her workplace, because he knew she would be in no hurry either.

“They didn’t get me the first time, so why should they get me now,” she’d said and bravely walked by his side, their steps careless as they descended into the underground.

Yet, as he rubbed her shoulders, he could feel her shivering. Perhaps it was from the cold, clammy air in the tube which seemed to linger no matter how many warm bodies were crammed together. _ Perhaps she is frightened, _ Jon thought, taking another drag of his smoke. _ And who could blame her? _

Daenerys tucked herself under Jon’s arm as she grabbed a hold of his suit jacket. She pressed her nose to the fabric as she took in the smell of him. “How many nights do we have to spend here?” she asked.

Jon shrugged. “Sansa did invite us to stay with her on the farm,” he said, referring to his sister. “No bombs on the countryside, that’s for sure.” Their old family home still sat nicely between the English hills, tucked away from civilisation. Even the road leading there was old and bumpy, and one would have to be an ample driver not to end up in the ditch. Still, as Jon spoke the words, he knew he wouldn’t be able to pack up his belongings and go, even if Daenerys begged him to. It would feel too much like defeat to flee the city, leaving everyone else stuck behind.

Luckily, Daenerys didn’t seem to entertain the thought either. She merely hummed and wrapped her arm around his chest as she snuggled close. “Missandei said a pipe might burst,” she spoke, her lips moving against the fabric of his shirt. “Imagine if the place was flooded.”

“Now, why would she say that?” Jon asked. He reached over to stroke Daenerys’ silver hair, feeling the soft locks escape between his fingers akin silk.

“She thinks we’d be safer outside.”

“Because of what happened at Balham?” Jon asked. It had been a tragic situation; when a bomb exploded above the platform, more than sixty people were killed. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine, and he shook his head to rid himself of the images of rubble and bodies. “Thing is, Dany, had we been outside, the shrapnel could’ve gotten us anyway.”

“So nowhere’s safe,” she spoke quietly.

Jon swallowed. He pushed his fingers to her scalp, massaging her gently all the way down to her nape. As she blinked up at him, he agreed: “Nowhere’s safe.” But he continued: “But it’s better together than alone.” At this, he nodded around them, and they both glanced across the many sleeping bodies, chatting couples, and babbling children.

Daenerys’ fingertips caressed Jon’s chest as she sighed. “Keep calm and carry on.”

“That’s a lesson to be learned,” Jon snorted. “Know what I saw today? I was ordering a pint, and before I knew it, some old man shows up next to me, his face covered in a gas mask.”

“No way,” Daenerys gasped with a smile, her interest piqued.

_ Good, _ Jon thought as he returned the smile, _ distraction is the way forward. _ “And he orders something, but the mask muffles his voice so much that none of us can understand what he’s saying. The bartender keeps going, _ What? What was that? _ And the guy goes, _ Mhmmhm! _ Soon, we’re a whole group of guys just circling this man, trying to interpret what he wants.”

“And did he get his order?”

Jon nodded. “He finally gets his whiskey. Double-up, because the bartender just can’t be bothered to even measure it by now. And we all stare, because we realise that he ain’t going to drink it through the mask. And guess what?” Jon’s lips pull back into a big smile as he says: “He just _ removes the mask_, gulps down the whiskey, thanks the bartender and then puts it back on before walking out of there.”

Daenerys laughed, shaking her head at Jon. “That did not happen!”

“It really did!” he insisted.

She was still chuckling as she pulled free of his arm to stretch. She pushed the small of her back against the wall, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin to her knees. “Thank you,” she said, “for trying to distract me.”

“What kind of husband would I be not to provide?” he asked with a slight smile. “Talking of which-” It was then he caught sight of the serving lady out of the corner of his eyes, and he rushed to his feet: “Evening! Two teas, please!”

Daenerys watched as Jon was poured two cuppas from a giant silver pot which looked more like a watering can than a kitchen tool. Still, she was thankful as her hands wrapped around the cup and her lips breathed in the steamy brew. “This is what I needed to feel human,” she said.

Jon squatted next to her, sipping his own tea with a nod: “We don’t get much more British than this.” In fact, as the smell of tea filled the walkway, people started waking up. From every wall, someone shouted for tea, and coin was exchanged for a taste of the hot brew.

For a moment, it felt lively and warm. As if they were not underground because they needed shelter, but because they wanted to be where others were. _ It is like we are one big family, _ Jon thought, his eyes seeking Daenerys’.

She looked at him from above her cup, her lips silently sipping the tea. As she let go, her lipstick left a mark on the edge. “Jon,” she said, and her tone of voice was grave. “There’s something I have to tell you-”

It was then they heard it. Through the lift shafts around them, the echo of falling bombs was audible. It sounded like a pained scream that reduced itself to a whistle as it travelled all the way to the tube, the last sound of it echoing between the tiled walls.

The chatter around them died as everyone listened. Jon put his tea aside as he wrapped his arms around Daenerys, and she pressed her nose to his neck, breathing heavily.

“Jon, there’s something I need to tell you,” she said, her fingers clinging on to his shirt. “I want to tell you now, in case-” She swallowed.

Jon pressed his hand to her head, keeping her close. “Don’t say it,” he begged, “we will be fine. They’re just sounds. Nothing can hurt us down here.” But though he tried to keep his voice steady and certain, his lips were shaking as he spoke. “Nothing can hurt us.”

“Jon,” Daenerys continued, and she tugged at his collar until he looked her in the eyes. It was then that surprise hit him, because instead of looking worried, she was smiling. The violet in her eyes shimmered as she said: “Jon, I didn’t go to work today.”

“You didn’t?” he said with surprise. Since she landed her secretary position, she had not missed work once. In fact, she was hailed as the most hardworking of the women in her office. “Why not?” he asked baffled.

“I went to the doctor instead,” Daenerys said.

Jon’s lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no words came out.

Daenerys nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, the smile on her lips deepening, “it is what you think. I am pregnant.”

Perhaps the whistling died out, perhaps Jon’s ears just filled with such a rush of blood that it drowned out all other noises. All he knew was that in that moment, only Daenerys existed, and as he closed his hands around her shoulders, holding her away from him as he glanced at her face, trying to read any hint of humour, he was still in disbelief. “You’re pregnant?” he spoke.

Daenerys nodded and bit her lower lip. “It’s certain, the doctor said so. I am with child.”

“I’m going to be a father?” Jon continued, his voice shaking but, as Daenerys nodded again, he repeated the words with certainty: “I am going to be a father.”

For a moment, he sat still, and she started to worry if something was amiss. But then Jon jumped to his feet, turned to the quiet station of people, and shouted: “My wife is pregnant!” His cheeks glowed bright red as all eyes turned on him, but it was with pride that he continued: “She just told me - I am going to be a father!”

At once, cheering broke out across the platform. Someone whistled from the tracks. As Jon pulled Daenerys to her feet and embraced her, suited men and dressed women surrounded them, all congratulating them on the good news.

“There you go, buddy,” some guy said, stuffing a cigar between Jon’s lips and lit it before he had a chance to speak, “that’s what I call _ carrying on_!”

“This is what I needed to hear,” some young girl spoke, holding her hand to her chest, “this warms my heart.”

“Has anyone got a drink? Someone get the man a drink!” Soon, flasks were passed up and down the group of people, men and women sipping strong liquor as they chattered warmly, the whistling from the bombs long forgotten.

Jon held Daenerys close as he thought to himself, _ Now, this is what being one big family really feels like. _

* * *

As the cold morning sun broke out, the first of the people ascended from the underground. Smoke hung heavy in the air, dust and debris covering the sidewalk, and Jon held on to Daenerys’ hand tightly as he assisted her up the stairs. “Tread carefully,” he said, “there’s much rubble on the street.”

Around them, small fires burned, and sirens could be heard. A running officer almost bumped into Jon as he hurried past the station, his eyes searching for something in the distance.

Daenerys looked about with a pale face. “It’s been another bad night,” she spoke quietly.

Jon nodded, then pulled her close. “Almost,” he said, his hand searching her stomach.

She placed her own atop of his, and they looked into each other’s eyes as they stood amidst the chaos, perfectly calm, perfectly content.

“Keep calm,” Jon said as he leaned in to kiss her,

“-and carry on,” she spoke to his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This story caused me to do some interesting research on how people hid in the London Underground during the Blitz. There are some really fascinating photos out there of people sleeping on tracks, watching bands play, drinking tea, or buying sweets from a makeshift trolley lady. I can recommend having a Google once you've read the story!
> 
> As always, art is by amazing DragonandDirewolf, who keeps me going this AU month. Thanks to all of you for reading and commenting. I can't believe we're almost at the end!


End file.
